A. H. Wong

Chapter Eighteen

April 17th, 2012

 

Early Afternoon

 

"Can't believe classes are cancelled today. That's just idiotic--we were finally getting out of that math unit. That...trig thing," Martin mutters, flicking his gaze over at Beatrix. She pays him no attention, too focused on staring out the window. Continuing on, he asks her, "So, uh, how do you feel about the school system here? I mean, it's--"

 

"Yes, it's weird. Yes, I feel like there's something seriously wrong with the massive amount of people that don't attend. No, I don't know why so few people show. But, does it matter?" Beatrix replies, far more angrily than she had, perhaps, originally meant. "Martin, I'm sorry, but I'm not...not really in the mood right now."

 

Martin barely even flinched. He just shook his head, as if trying not to think or let it get to him, but a part of her still knew how much pain her harshness had caused him.

 

Without speaking another word, Martin walked away.

 

While she watched him go, a part of her felt like she was dying. But, at the time, she still knew....She still knew that this was for the best. As much as it caused her agony, made her feel despicable--she still felt that this would lead her to a better future. Her life with Taylor, if a life with him was even possible, would be far more suitable for her.

 

Still, she wished it did not have to be this way.

 

Unlike her, and most of the other residents, Martin was alone.

 

<3 <3 <3 </3

 

Mid-Afternoon

 

"Alright, so tell me. I know you've heard about what happened to your pal Janelle, and myself and the rest would like an answer," Sarah said, glaring down at Beatrix. Her, and most of the members of the Plucked Feather residence, had cornered her on her way back to her room. "Taylor keeps shutting down every single conversation we try to have about it, and we'd really like an answer."

 

"So, giving us one would definitely benefit you. Especially if you think in the long run, where your answer will determine your happiness here in the Agency."

 

"My...My happiness here? Don't you dare tell me you're threatening me. I really don't see how--"

 

"Taylor would allow that? Look, kiddo, you seem to think we're nice. Meanwhile, that actually couldn't be further from the truth. We aren't nice. None of us are. Are we loyal? Nah. We ain't that either," David tells her, raising his eyebrows at her. "And none of us really know you. So, sorry girl, but we need you to disregard your orders from your oh-so-precious Taylor and tell us the actual truth about what happened."

 

Beatrix swallowed. Her mind working quickly, it didn't take her long to realize that there was absolutely no way Taylor would forgive her if she told them the truth. Meanwhile, she didn't seem to have a choice in the matter. "Janelle....She tried to kill herself because Maverick really did propose to her."

 

"Damn...And we thought the truth would be something worth threatening you for. Nah, sorry. Not worth it," David groans aloud, cupping his face in his hands. "I guess we really should have known, though. We just were hoping that there was a more interesting truth."

 

Beatrix blinked at them for a second. "I-I....Can I just go now, then? I mean....If there's nothing more you want from me, I'd better get going."

 

Sarah nodded, stepping away. The others moved as well, waving her on down the hall. Without further ado, and without another word, Beatrix marched right to Taylor's office.

 

As had happened at their very first therapy session, she didn't even need to touch the door to have him open it for her. He shot a cursory glance up and down the hall, before quickly closing the door behind her. He leaned up against it, breathing in slowly. "Please tell me what I just heard was lies," he said slowly. "I know Master John wouldn't want to know how quickly this spread throughout the Agency--morale is going to crash, and there's absolutely nothing I can do about it."

 

Beatrix blinked up at him, angling her head to the side. "Morale is going to crash over a rumor? Doesn't that seem to be a bit...silly?"

 

Taylor grinned ever so faintly. "I can't really say you're wrong. The major part of the Agency, though, is the rumor vine. You may not have noticed it, but the entire Agency is nothing more than a web of rumors. It's apparently how normal people keep things from becoming, well, boring."

 

Beatrix snorted. "Normal? Us?"

 

Taylor looked down at her, a serious expression on his face. "Yes. Normal people. People with emotions, with feelings...."

 

"S-So you don't have emotions...?"

 

Taylor covered his face in his hands, cursing himself internally. "Beatrix, I really....I really didn't mean that. I didn't, I swear I didn't."

 

Beatrix sat down in his desk chair, lifting her feet up onto the surface of his desk. "Taylor, I understand. It's okay. You are my therapist, after all. I cannot just assume you will be like the other people I've been with."

 

Taylor lowered his eyes slowly, sitting down in one of the chairs across from her. His hands played with his pant legs, pinching at some of the loose material. He looked down at them in some mild surprise--he must have not been eating properly, as his pants had become far looser than intended. "But, Beatrix, I....I really do love you. I care about you truly, honestly, fully, and deeply. Every single part of me loves you, Beatrix, and I wish I could show you that. Everything I am, everything you are, everything we could be....I just want you to know I love you with every single beat of my heart."

 

She curls up more in his chair, closing her eyes tighter. Finally, she lifts her heels off his desk, and rests her head on it instead. Her arms and hands protect her head from his view, so he cannot see her face as she whispers tremulously, "Taylor, I don't understand why you care about me at all."

 

"I-I....I care about you, Beatrix, because you deserve to be cared about," Taylor stammers out, unable to find the perfect words to show her just how he felt for her. He pauses for a few moments, trying to formulate his thoughts. "You aren't like the others."

 

"I'm not like the others because I....Because I still maintain some semblance of humanity, isn't that right?" she asks, still refusing to raise her face and meet his gaze. "Because I still try to be a good person, because I"m actually human."

 

Taylor swallows. "Yes. You are...incredible, Beatrix, and I truly wish I could show you your strength. Everyone else was damaged irreparably, but you....Oh, you....You took what happened to you, internalized it, shattered it, and made it yours."

 

Beatrix looks up at him then, but only for a moment before lowering her head back down. "S-so, if I'm so much better than all the others....Then why are Janelle and Maverick together?"

 

Taylor shrugged softly. "Janelle and Maverick are together out of love, and that is all I am really able to say on the subject. They might be a very odd couple, but they still are relatively functional."

 

"Relatively functional? Seriously? Janelle just tried to kill herself because Maverick proposed to her!" Beatrix said harshly, raising her head quickly. She fixes Taylor with a stare. "And I barely even uderstand why THAT happened. So, if you could, please do enlighten me. I'm afraid not everyone has as big of a brain as you."

 

Taylor shook his head quietly, raising his hands. He stands, approaches the table, and leans down to look at her. "Beatrix, Beatrix please. I don't want to fight with you, I don't want to have to fight with you anymore. I just....Beatrix, can we....Can we please talk? Calmly, quietly. As a couple. I want to spend time with you. I want to eat ice cream with you, I want to wear dorky clothing with you. I want to do everything with you."

 

She flushes a tiny bit, before finally reaching her hand out to touch him. She caresses his arm gently, and he can't help but smile. "I want to do everything with you as well, Taylor. I really....I really do. I want to make you happy, too."

 

"Oh, good. So the both of you can be smiling while I yell at you for the next several hours."

 

Taylor went pale, and mutters softly, "Hello, Master John."